Treasured
by MariaShadow
Summary: G1- Rodimus and Bluestreak, each coming to terms with events.


Treasured

Rodimus felt a surge of pity as he stared up at forlorn silhouette standing atop Lookout Mountain.

Every night since he recovered after that fateful summer day in 2005, Bluestreak had stood on the observation platform on the mountain, his optics fixed on one tiny speck of a star. Everyone knew why he waited there, but nobody could find the words to tell the broken Autobot that they wouldn't be coming back.

The young Prime sighed and returned to his nocturnal meandering through the City. Very few of the original crew of the Ark remained at Autobot City, the majority having been claimed by the war in one way or another.

Hound and Trailbreaker had been the first to go. They had vanished into the backcountry almost immediately after Rodimus had been appointed Prime. They sent the occasional message to the City to tell them where they were and some of what they had been up to, but they were only occasionally seen.

Sunstreaker had lain in stasis for about a week before finally coming back online. Once healed, he and Sideswipe then left too. Every few months they appeared at one of the Autobot's embassies or facilities around the globe for repairs and supplies, but they never came back to the City.

After recovering Inferno left as well, the big red Autobot drifting around the country and helping out where he was needed. Beachcomber and Seaspray had departed only about a week ago, the pair being last sighted out near the Galapagos Islands.

They all checked in now and then, but the Prime couldn't bring himself to order them back. In his spark, Rodimus knew that they would eventually return after having had the time and space needed to come to terms with their loss. None of them were quitters; they had signed up for the long haul.

Several Autobots stayed around, like Jazz, Tracks and Skyfire. But they all asked for transfers away from the City. Ultra Magnus, and later Rodimus Prime, honoured all requests. They had been through enough without being forced to live in the city that claimed so many of their friends.

The Prime sighed again, head down and hands clasped behind his back as he walked through the dim halls. When he was younger he had idolised them, the hand picked crew of the Ark, the best the Autobots had to offer. But now it was heartbreaking to see how they were all slowly falling apart, for the most part replaced by the next generation of their race.

So lost was Rodimus in his dark musings that he only realised he had entered the common room when the double doors had hissed shut behind him. He looked up, slightly startled at how easily he had zoned out, then trudged to the nearest energon dispenser, hoping that a stiff drink would help to clear his head.

He had retrieved his cup and turned to leave when he almost tripped over Bluestreak's foot.

"Oh! Rodimus, I'm sorry, I was just sitting there and I didn't think anyone else was going to be here and I kinda spaced and sorry." Bluestreak babbled as he shot out of his seat in surprise, quickly checking to make sure the Prime wasn't hurt.

Rodimus waited politely until the gunner paused to suck some air into his vents. "It's alright Bluestreak. I should have been watching where I was going anyway." Rodimus said. "Why are you in here so late anyway?"

The gunner shifted uneasily, not offering a reply. Rodimus quickly changed the subject.

"So, what's all that stuff in there? I haven't had a chance to ask anyone." He queried, waving one hand at a partially walled off area of the common room.

"Oh, that's the Trophy Room." Bluestreak replied.  
"Trophy Room?"  
"Yup. I think it started when Perceptor, Beachcomber and Seaspray captured some arm lasers from the Seekers. Nobody wanted 'em and we weren't about to give 'em back, so Sideswipe stuck 'em on the wall of the common room as trophies. It just grew from there. We all put stuff up, and when this place got built, me, Jazz and the twins moved everything here." Bluestreak explained.

"Now you have to show me what's in there." Rodimus grinned, his curiosity ignited.

The collection was quite possibly the most ecliptic grouping of memorabilia that Rodimus had come across. Almost every piece had a story, and the ones that didn't were self-explanatory.

The two arm lasers that had started the collection were among several items that had apparently been forcibly removed from their previous owners. Among the various parts were some throwing stars that had come from a human built robot, a couple of torn off insignia, several Insecticon clone heads and a pair of wings that the twins had torn off Skywarp.

A row of bronze plaques belonged to the twins, having been given to them by the Portland Highway Patrol commemorating the thousandth, fifty thousandth and hundred thousandth speeding tickets issued to the pair. A pair of strange looking weapons carved out of honey hued wood and inlaid with shimmering blue green shell were an Autobot sized _taiaha_ and _patu_ given to Jazz and Hound during a cultural excursion to New Zealand. An accompanying photo showed the two wearing painted _moko_, or facial tattoos, which had apparently caused a great deal of amusement when the two were badgered into explaining how they got conned into being painted up like that.

There was a laminated picture that someone had drawn based on the infamous 'Tricks to play on the Bomb Squad' picture, featuring Wheeljack and Sideswipe instead of the green suited humans. A yellowed newspaper article showed Prowl winning the national chess tournament after having been tricked into entering by Jazz. Next to it was a collection of movie posters. Another article, this one from the Time magazine, was of Perceptor after winning the Nobel Prize. Yet another Time magazine, this one enlarged to Autobot size and looking very well read, was a special edition with articles on all of the Autobots. More newspaper clippings followed, all showing various events and battles.

Then there were the photos and holo-images. A couple of group shots in various locations, and several of the aftermath of what appeared to have been a massive paintball war. There were pictures of Hound and Jazz looking fierce as they posed with the weapons they had been given in New Zealand, and a photo some anonymous wag had taken of Prowl dozing on a sunny hillside, a brilliant blue butterfly perched on the tip of the tactician's chevron. There was more of the rest of the Autobots, just little snapshots of life taken in mid motion. The twins, smoke stained but happy, seated on some boulders. Wheeljack happily tinkering, Ratchet wiping down a repair berth, a weary Optimus in the middle of tossing a data pad onto the pile on his desk, Jazz zoned out in the common room with his feet up on the table and many more.

As he studied the pictures, listening to Bluestreak happily pointing out this and that and that thing over there, the Prime suddenly realised how, well, _human_ the Ark's crew was. Yes, they were heroes, yes, they were warriors, but they were people too. And these precious scraps of memories, these priceless treasures, these were a far greater testament to what the Ark's crew had achieved than any statue or memorial.

Prime reached out and gently touched the photo of Optimus. The angle was low, like it had been taken from the ground, but it captured a sense of 'oh hang it all' frustration in the leader's posture. Rodimus could sympathise, he'd found himself slouched in the nearly the same position ever since he'd been handed the responsibilities that came with his new name. And it looked like Optimus hated the paperwork as much as he did.

With a start he realised he wasn't trying to fill the chair of a demi-god anymore, but a 'bot with cares and worries just like him. It lifted an incredible weight off his shoulders as it sunk in that the former Prime had been just like him once- young, inexperienced, and following the legacy of another leader.

"Spike took that one." Bluestreak spoke up, interrupting Rodimus' thoughts.  
"What?"  
"Spike took that photo." The gunner repeated, a shy hint of lopsided grin flickering around his lips. "I think it was in '04 or something. 'Course, the reason why he was in there was 'cause Optimus had been in a funk, what with the Decepticons taking Cybertron and all, and he'd heard that Sideswipe had planned something to cheer Optimus up. Spike took that shot just before the twins and Jazz came an' dragged Optimus out for that." Bluestreak pointed to the photo of the paintball war.

"It looks like you guys had fun." Rodimus observed.  
"We did." Bluestreak grinned. "Sunstreaker nearly had a fit when Ratchet tagged 'im the first time."  
Rodimus squinted at the A4 sized picture. "That's Sunstreaker under there?" he asked, pointing to a scowling, multihued 'bot.  
"Yup, and not too happy about it either."

Both Autobots chuckled, then for a moment were silent.

"Thanks Prime." Bluestreak said suddenly.  
"Huh? What do you mean? All I've done is ask questions." Rodimus frowned and shook his head slightly, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.  
"But you talked to me, nobody's been doing that for a while." The Datsun offered a little smile. "I've been thinking about the bad stuff for so long now that I forgot the good stuff. You made me remember the good stuff; now the bad doesn't hurt so much. So, thanks."  
Rodimus felt a warm and genuine smile spread across his face. "You're very welcome Bluestreak." He replied.


End file.
